


The Gift of Memory

by FoxRafer



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori remembers the love of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a challenge at [writerverse](http://writerverse.livejournal.com/)

He could fill an entire journal with nothing but stories and sketches of Fili's young life, most completed after their final goodbye. The book he'd carried on the journey to Erebor was worn and frayed now, the binding held together by hope and sheer force of will, many of the pages stained, the words smudged and broken. But he'd preserved what he could, and wasn't ashamed to admit that after Thorin's great adventures the first drawings and stories he'd saved had been of Fili.

The first sketch he'd ever made of Fili was of him rough-housing with his brother and some older boys near the entrance to the mines. That drawing has long since been lost to time, but the memory of it is still sharply etched in his mind. Fili had noticed Ori sitting off to the side, his head bent over a book as he scratched away with an unsteady hand. He hadn't wanted to be seen, especially by Fili, but when the prince with the wild mane approached him he couldn't help but show him his work. It was rough and childish, the strokes uneven, the subject barely recognizable. But Fili had smiled, had sat beside him and asked him about his drawings and his stories. And most importantly, Fili had actually listened, had extended a hand in friendship, a bond Ori would never soon forget.

Even now he missed the sound of his voice, the richness of his laugh, the mischievousness in his smile. He was proud, strong and did not suffer fools, with a reputation for being, as Dori might say, too big for his britches. And yet he was kind-hearted and open with a near limitless curiosity that drew Ori to him, a warmth and surprising gentleness that cemented their bond beyond the fealty of brothers. He was Ori's first love, perhaps his only love, and not a day passed without the breathless whisper of memory ruffling his heart.

Ori bent over the hearth, stoking more heat from the steady flame. He sat back on his heels, smiling into the warmth. His memories of Fili were very much like the fire, sparking a blaze of new life from the embers. Fili was gone too soon but his joy and lust for life remained with all that knew him. If he could not have Fili back, then surely this was a most precious gift, one he would cherish for the rest of his days.


End file.
